Saint Joan of Arc

by Storm Sun 27 Dec 2009, 16:45

So, a little bit about my life I want to rant about. Though, its more about me being sad than angry.

So, ever since I can remember till about 7th grade, we went to the same church. And that church was our home, practically. See, back when I was 3 or 4, my mother and father both decided they wanted to be more involved in our church, Saint Joan of Arc. But they tried to be sunday school teachers, and they just couldnt do it. Too hard, little kids are a handful. Then my mother saw the choir, and how nice it looked. She looked to my dad and said "Why not? It seems like it'd be fun". My dad agreed, for lack of things to do, and they joined the adult choir and enrolled me in the children's choir. And that was the start of our involvement at our church. It became our home, our family, our life. Wednesdays were adult choir practice, thursdays childrens. Sundays were church days, and afterwards we would have donuts with all of our church friends and all would be well. Life was wonderful when we had Saint Joan of Arc.

But then something big happened. Something huge. Mrs Johnson announced that she would be leaving Saint Joan. Mrs. Johnson was what held our little world together, as she was the music director. Without her, no one would be in choir anymore. I already knew half of the choir was following her to her new church. But why? Why would she leave our little save haven that is Saint Joan? Well, it turns out that our Pastor, Father Larry, was treating Mrs. Johnson rather poorly, never giving her thanks for her efforts, instead just pointing out her negatives. She was being under payed and overworked. But to the parish, Father Larry was a saint, always giving to the poor, always preaching perfect homilies that just made you think. It was just so hard to believe such a religious, catholic man could be so cold hearted.

So, the time came for Mrs. Johnson to leave. In mass she played all her favorite songs, and afterwards we had a big Goodbye party for her.

But that was the very last Catholic mass I have ever felt welcomed at. The last mass where I felt at ease, at peace. At home.

We were one of the ones who followed Mrs. J to her new church. It was a moderatly sized one, called St. Bernard of Claiveaux. And boy, was that church the opposite of Saint Joan. It just felt so cold (and not by the temperature, either). It was...lonely. We didnt know anyone for the 2 and a half years we were there. All we had were the Saint Joan followers and two or three adults who decided to join the choir as well. At Saint Joan, we knew just about everyone. And it wasnt just some dinky rundown run-of-the-mill churches. Saint Joan was home to a lot of Catholic followers. 'Least 150 people a service. But at St. Bernard, we knew only ourselves. For two years. After coming from a parish like Saint Joan, it was really discouraging.

Then, things got changed. Again. Mr Nice Priest at St. Bernard randomly flipped out and fired Mrs. Johnson. Over a small argument the two had about Christmas music. And since then, we've been churchless, just wandering around from parish to parish, never finding one we can call our own.

A few months ago we decided to pay Saint Joan a visit, just for old times sake. I'm not going to lie, it made me cry, to see what it had become. It made me realize just how big a deal the choir was to that church. There couldn't have been more than 70 people at that mass. Father Larry had left on a mission trip, and afterwards was going to another church, so they hired this new guy. And mr new priest likes the old fashion chanting, like in the vatican. So the choir there now consists of 13 men who chant. They went from 45 structured men and women to 13 old men. Mrs Donavan, the bell teacher, was assigned to help the new choir director. She treats Mrs. D like she's never read music before, like she's new at anything pertaining to songs or sight reading, when really Mrs. D has done it her entire life. And the day we went, the bell choir was up there, above the choir, like usual. But instead of playing 6-7 songs with the choir, they had one song. That lasted all of 1 minute.

Occasionally we'll see people from saint joan of arc during our nomadic church visits. It seems that we're not the only churchless ones from our destroyed parish. Everyone we've talked to said the church really took a turn for the worse after Mrs. Johnson left. Father Larry got more irritable, and the new guy changed just about everything they were used to.

If I could change just one thing, I would bring the church back together, with Mrs. Johnson as the choir director again. You know, minus the bad pastors. Because life was actually a lot easier with Saint Joan. It was my safe haven, a place where nothing could go wrong. It was a place of happiness, of family, of friends, and of God. Just as a church should be. And it'll be a long while before we find another one of that standing.